Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
The Lonely Boy & The Girl in Love
This isn’t my home.
I know this as soon as I open my eyes and take in the space around me.
Grayish-white walls, hardwood floors. A giant window taking up the entire wall to my left.
Even the height of the bed, when I climb out of it, is wrong. It’s too high, the mattress too thick and fluffy.
But the thing that gets my heart going the most is the scent.
It’s a scent I know.
It’s a scent that’s deeply and achingly familiar to me, but there’s also something different about it. Something so soothing that my stomach that roils in the morning is strangely calm.
I’m not sure what this soothing aroma is but I’m thankful for it.
I’m thankful and I’m frantic as I leave the room, dash out of it really, my bare feet slapping on the hardwood floor.
I have no idea what this place is or where I’m going as I almost run down the hallway that’s flanked with white doors, but I know who it might belong to.
I know who brought me here.
Him.
He did, didn’t he?
Instead of taking me back home, he brought me to this strange place that for some reason doesn’t feel as strange as it should.
It’s his scent, I think, and all the white.
Last night I wasn’t thinking clearly.
I was hurt and sad and afraid. It was like someone was sitting on my chest, suffocating me. So I snuck out of the house to get some fresh air.
I wasn’t expecting to walk for so long or to end up at Blue Madonna. I wasn’t expecting to see him there either. I wasn’t expecting to be brought here.
When I come out of the hallway into the living space filled with soft blue-colored couches and cozy rugs and see him sitting at the marble kitchen counter, bent over something, I don’t expect to feel a painful twisting in my heart.
A deep angst in my gut.
Ledger did a number on him.
Last night I was so out of it, I barely noticed the extent of the damage he had done. But under the bright kitchen lights, I can see it all.
The red-purple bruises, dark and angry and so painful looking. Both his eyes are red and swollen. His lip is cut. His jaw is bruised up and I can’t be sure but I think his nose is dented.
Maybe I gasp or make a distressing noise at the pain that he must’ve felt last night, must still be feeling, because he looks up and his wolf eyes connect with mine.
All those conflicting feelings that I always experience when he’s around make my knees weak, but I pace myself and start with the most obvious thing. “This isn’t my home.”
Instead of answering me, those wolf eyes of his take me in and for the first time I realize what a wreck I must look right now.
My dress is all wrinkled. I probably have sleep lines on my face, or at least my features must be swollen with it, with sleep. My hair feels all messed up, flowing down my back, my braid coming untied during the night.
“You sleep well?” he asks.
“What is this place?” I ask, looking around. “What am I doing here?”
He pushes something away, a book, I notice, and straightens up. “It’s a vacation home.”
“What vacation home?”
“A place where people go to take a vacation.”
“Is it yours?”
“For now.”
I’m confused. “What —”
“You never answered my question,” he cuts me off. “Did you sleep well?”
“What? That’s not even the point. The point is —”
“The point is that you were tired. You could barely stand up. I had to carry you to my Mustang. So I’m asking you how are you feeling when you shouldn’t have been out at midnight in the first place.”
God.
Him and his stupid protectiveness.
I fist my hands in frustration but then release a sigh and answer just to get this over with so we can get to the point. “I’m fine. Thank you. I shouldn’t be here. I should be back home. I should be with my brothers.”
“And I’ll take you there.”
Frantic, I walk closer to him. “You’ll take me there. Are you insane?”
“Not the last time I checked,” he answers casually, every single bruise on his face standing out against his vampire skin.
“Oh my God,” I breathe out. “You are insane. Do you know what will happen when my brothers see that I’m missing?
They’ll freak out. They’ll lose their minds, and then you’ll roll in, in your Mustang, dropping me off, and they’ll think that you kidnapped me or something.
” I shake my head and look over his shoulders and out the kitchen window.
“No, you will not take me home. You need to put me in a cab right now. It’s still dark out so maybe they don’t know that I’m gone yet, okay? Call me a cab.”
“No.”
“What?” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Do you not see how this is going to look? They’ll call the cops on you, Reed, and I’m not even kidding right now.”
“I know all the cops.”
“Fine.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Then they’ll kill you themselves. Ledger already did half the job, didn’t he?”
“He did, and they’re welcome to try.”
Agitated, I unfold my arms and fist my fingers. “What are you doing? I need to get back home, Reed. Conrad would be so worried and furious and —”
“He has nothing to do with this.”
Finally, Reed’s voice is raised. His tone is tight and angry, matching the occasion.
Suddenly I remember what I told him last night. About abortion. Up until now I didn’t, but as I stare into his intense eyes, his tight mouth, I remember.
“Does he?” he asks with clenched teeth.
I swallow. “No.”
“Good. We’re on the same page then.”
“But —”
“Your one week is up.”
The calmness in my belly vanishes. It’s not the nausea that plagues me every morning though. It’s the flutters. The heat. The life inside of it.
It’s like she’s waking up.
Even though she isn’t more than a few cells, occupying the littlest of spaces, I still feel her waking up and I take a deep breath. “I know.”
His jaw clenches then, as he stares at me and slowly stands up, his bar stool screeching against the floor. Again slowly, he puts his hands on the island, his fingers splayed out, his veins standing taut. As if he’s using the island to keep his balance.
As if his body is trembling as badly as mine.
“Tell me,” he says in a low voice, the muscles of his shoulders stark in his white t-shirt. “Give me the words.”
I wanted to tell him a week ago when he asked me at the bar. But I’m glad I didn’t because I had nothing figured out then. I have a plan now and he’s a very important part of it.
And so I’ve thought about him a lot.
I’ve thought about what’s going to happen between me and him, between us.
But like he said that night, there’s no us.
There will never be.
That’s why everything happened and that’s why we’re here. So I’ve decided that I’ll give him a choice. And he’s going to decide what he wants.
I cradle my stomach and watch his chest move with a breath as I whisper, “I’m pregnant.”
At first, he doesn’t do anything except remain still. Making me think that his breath has frozen. Even his blood has stopped flowing.
But then his lips part and he exhales.
His chest moves again and his hands, glued to the island, shake slightly.
“Pregnant,” he repeats.
I press my belly. “Yes. With your baby.”
He drops his eyes to my abdomen, making my fingers feel a sudden heat, making me think that he wanted to do it, to stare at my belly, for the longest time. But he was stopping himself for some reason.
“With my baby.”
This time when he repeats my words, his voice has whittled down to a whisper. His bruised, beat-up features have whittled down to the most minimalist of expressions.
And I’m not really sure what he’s thinking, but like I did with Con last night, I have to stay strong. I have to keep marching on and say all the things that I want to say. “And I’m keeping it.”
He looks up. “You’re keeping it.”
“Yes.” I raise my chin and widen my stance as I continue, “I’m keeping her.
I’m not getting an abortion. I can’t get an abortion.
I just can’t. I can’t even bring myself to say the words without wanting to throw up, so, I can’t do it.
But I understand if you’re not okay with that.
I understand. I mean, what guy wants to be a dad at twenty-one?
Not to mention, our situation is even more complicated.
We have issues. You have issues with love.
I have issues with you. And every time we come together, all we ever seem to do is make things even more complicated and hurt each other.
And I wanted that to end. We were supposed to come to an end that night. Instead now we’re tied… for life.
“So I understand if you don’t want any part of this. I understand if you think this is a mistake. But she’s not a mistake for me. I want her. I’m keeping her and I don’t expect anything from you. I can do this on my own and I will. I have a plan and —”
“What’s the plan?”
This is the second time someone has asked me about it, and even though I’m still reeling from Conrad’s anger and rejection, I tell Reed. Because I will keep telling anyone who asks. I will keep repeating it until the whole world knows that I’m going to fight for her.
I keep my chin lifted and my battle stance grounded as I say, “I’m planning on quitting school.
I’ll talk to the principal this Monday, move out and get a job.
I was planning to live with Con but I think I’m gonna get my own place now, something cheap, and save up.
Of course, Juilliard is no longer an option and that’s fine.
I know I have other talents. I can figure things out for myself. But I’m not getting rid of her.”
The silence that follows feels excruciating.
Maybe because I’ve been talking a lot. I’ve said too many words and now the quiet is unbearable.
Especially when the only thing that’s filling it is my panting, heaving breath.
“Her.”
Even though he’s only said one word after my deluge of them, flutters move and swirl in my belly, and for the second time since last night, I say, “It’s a girl.”
I detect another shake of his arms. “Y-you already…” he swallows, “know…”